Oddly, this turned into a first person exercise.  I don't write much in first person, but for some reason this one came out this way.   It's yet another 'moment in time' exercise.  Without a substative plot of its own, this little blurb happened in two free hours of writing time this evening--and while I'm certain there are numerous errors and omissions--I hope you'll 'skip over' them and read it with the same simple purpose that I had in writing it down.  Pure pleasure...  Cheers!



"Home"
A 'moment in time exercise'. 
Post: "Insurrection" (barely).
By:  QDestinyy@aol.com


Reality shifted.  Bright light shimmered across my field of view and then vanished in the following darkness.  It was a powerfully familiar sensation and I welcomed the implication, but all the same I felt a shudder in the pit of my stomach.  I always shivered in the penultimate instant; though I'd travelled a transporter beam nearly twice a week for most of my life.  

What I noticed most keenly this time was the increase in pressure on my hand.   It coincided with the moment of my fleeting unease, but it was definitely there. 

The Captain and Beverly were the first to leave the transport pad.   Geordi and Worf followed closely behind, and Data--Data turned as he began to disembark.  He looked at me strangely; his amber eyes were round and thoughtful as they dropped to examine my hand.  But when I smiled and shook my head, he simply shrugged and carried on.  It was his way in the face of a deliberately unspoken remark; a quietly victorious attempt at humanity.  A trait that most of us admired him for, even though we smiled at the 'obvious' way he drew attention to himself.  He was only being ... Data.

Will's fingers were still closed around mine. 

Compelling.  How a piece of technology could differentiate between one person's molecules and another's.  Wondrous perhaps.  That we could be standing on the sunny surface of the Ba'ku planet in one moment, and in the next we stood on board the Enterprise--hand in hand.

It was only one of a million tiny things I'd taken for granted the majority of my life; and yet of late I'd started thinking ... started seeing things as though they'd never been seen before.   And I wondered...

I looked up at Will and let go of his hand as we stepped off the pad, but when he looked back at me, there was something forceful in his eyes.  Something that whispered between us as though he had spoken aloud.  But the meaning wasn't there.  Not yet.  He and I were never completely fluent telepathically.  

We were linked a long time ago.  We shared a bond my people referred to as, 'Imzadi', but we had never really explored the somewhat mystical implications of our connection.  Not while we were lovers at least.  Not even as friends.

Perhaps we would someday...

I felt a warm tremor in the centre of my stomach when he took back my hand, but I didn't protest as we stepped off the transporter together.  It was strangely--almost comfortingly--familiar, sensing his emotions above everyone else.

As an empath I could sense them all, but Will Riker had always been a singular entity in my life.  He had a keen mind and a kind soul, but he was--nevertheless--'only human', as my mother had once been fond of pointing out.  Despite it all, his feelings had forever been just a little bit bolder in my mind.  Just a little bit clearer.  Most of the time.

When the Captain turned to us, his gaze touched on our joined hands.  But his was a far subtler exploration than Data's.  In typical 'Jean-Luc Picard fashion', he offered no visible remark.

"Number One, I'll take the bridge.  You'll have the next shift.  We'll set a course for Starbase McKinley and then to Earth for a convening of the Federation Council.  In the interim," he lifted a decorous eyebrow, "I expect there's something left of my ship to carry us home?"

Will smiled at that.  "Yes sir," his shoulders squared with the pride and confidence of a born leader, "she's a little battle-weary at the moment, but I'm certain she'll stay the course."

"At the moment, Number One, I think we're all 'a little battle-weary'."  The Captain's glance fell on me for a fractional moment, but I was certain he'd prefer I didn't disclose that I had felt the sting of ambivalence in his heart.  So I continued to look at Will instead.

Beverly had already gone.  She was the first one out the door, and while the others didn't linger long after, I felt that she was nearly as ambivalent.  But there was nothing to be said to her.  To either of them.  Not, at least, by me. 

As the Counselor of the Enterprise, I had many responsibilities.  To the ship; to the health and well being of her crew.  My empathy was a gift by any human standard, but I had always dreaded the moments when I couldn't speak, far more than the ones where I had no other choice.

I regarded the Captain and smiled, "I'm sure that the Federation could learn a great deal from the Ba'ku, sir."

"Indeed," he looked away for a moment, then nodded as he so often did in the end of a conversation.  "I'll see you at oh-three hundred, Number One.  Counselor," and he followed in the footsteps of the others through the transporter room door.

"Deanna," Will turned to me.  His concern was etched as plainly in his eyes as I had felt it wash against my spirit, "do you think that maybe--"

"Not now, Will," I shook my head.  I couldn't tell him.  Not any more than I could have told the Captain, or could have stopped Beverly in the hall on her way to drown her feelings in her work. 

Sometimes, no matter what I felt, I couldn't tell anyone at all.

As luck would have it, Will accepted my explanation.  Or lack thereof.  With the wisdom and understanding of a lifelong friendship, he simply nodded; following me through the doorway without ever releasing my hand. 

We didn't speak in the corridor.  Or in the turbolift.  We said nothing when a crewman boarded the lift at deck nine and both of us stepped out.  Our thoughts were on a hundred different things, but we were sorting them out individually and somehow there was nothing of any urgency to say.

When our progress finally halted on the outside of Will's cabin door, I hadn't even realized--until he let go of my hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Okay?" 

He smiled when I glanced down at the dusty, weather-torn remnants of my sturdy, utilitarian suit.  But he was right; I must have looked a fright. 

"I'm actually surprised that Beverly didn't order us both down to sick-bay before heading back here," his blue eyes filled with sparkling mischief, "Not that I'm complaining."

"Any reason to stay out of sick-bay," I teased him, but he had made another valid point.  "Beverly has a lot on her mind right now.  She took readings from all of us on the planet's surface. I'm sure she's satisfied that we're healthy and unharmed or we wouldn't be standing here right now."

"I'm sure you're right," he agreed, "like I said, I'm not complaining..."

"But you're concerned."

"A little, yes.  You're not?" 

I lifted the hand he'd held and wiped it carefully along the side of my face, removing some dust and a tendril of errant hair.  "I don't know."

His eyebrow rose.

"I don't," I defended, "not yet.  It's too early to tell."

"And that's all you're going to say?" 

Though he offered me serious look, I had already indicated my answer.  "For now."

"All right."  Keying in his access code, Will stood aside when the doorway was revealed.  "Come in for a few minutes?"

"I really should go change--"

He was just like a small boy when he smiled.  His eyes lit up and his features illuminated with meaningful, mischievous waywardness. "You can change later."

I had to laugh.  It was either that or shove him gently for the indelicate implication.  But I was almost too tired to move.  "Will, I'm a mess.  And so are you, for that matter.  We can talk, later."

"Who says I wanted to talk?"  He grinned at me and tipped his head, but all I had left of the fight in my spirit was a sigh and a roll of the eyes.

He'd missed me.  In truth, I had missed him too.  And maybe it was even more than that; now that we had crossed our perpetually invisible line and thrown ourselves headfirst into ... something beyond any hope of our control.  But that didn't mean I wasn't able to try.

When we emerged from the caves on the Ba'ku planet, my first thoughts were filled with the reality of freedom.  And then with him.  I could sense the away-team and the focus of their pointed search for us well before we were anywhere within sight.  But my heart stopped beating when the horizon finally shifted.  My breath caught in my lungs when I saw him standing tall and unharmed at the apex of a hilltop.

Quite suddenly the distance didn't seem so far to travel anymore.  The sunlight warmed my skin, and the bruises, dust and weariness of my body were of very little consequence.  I lifted my arm and I waved.

"Deanna?"

His voice called me back to the present and I slowly shook my head.  "Honestly Will, all I really want to do right now is peel these clothes off my body and take a very long, very hot, shower."

"I'm sure I can help you with that ... on both counts."  His rogue smile trapped me up against the wall before I'd even realized he'd moved.  Somehow we were already in his quarters.  But no matter how hard I thought back, I couldn't recall the instant that I agreed to enter with him.

"I don't doubt that," I gave in and played along with him, warmed beyond measure by the nearness of his body; and even more so by the feelings I could sense in him, but he hadn't made any further overtly physical advance. 

"Then?" he lifted a hand and barely brushed the edge of my hair.

"Commander, you do realize that we both have to be on the bridge in fewer than nine hours?" I said.  "I don't know about you, but I intend to spend at least two of those hours in hot water, first."

Will threw his head back and laughed.  The sound of his amusement was almost frustrating enough to warrent my departure, but he spoke before I'd found the means to move.  "Two hours? You really were an amphibian in your previous life, weren't you...?"

"Very funny," I pushed him backward into the room and extricated myself carefully from the wall before I realized that I already had the perfect comeback.   "Tell me something?  Did you really use the manual steering column to pilot the Enterprise through the Briar Patch?"

Before I could see the look in his eyes transform, he turned away abruptly and gestured.  "Fine.  Go... do whatever it is you do in the water ... for two hours."

I walked to the door and then stopped.  He looked so disappointed, I felt an immutable stab of guilt invade my traitorous heart.  Oh, gods be merciful... how does he do that?  Looking back at him, I placed the palm of my dusty hand against the side of his disconsolate face and sighed in defeat.  "You know something, I'd almost forgotten what an arduous task it is to keep that beard of yours in check..."

His blue eyes lit with sparkling innuendo, "It isn't easy to manage... all alone."

"So I can see," the frown I offered him felt convincing enough, but while my fingertips caressed the new growth on the edge of his cheek, I knew I'd already lost.  I'd lost a long time ago, and if I were honest with myself I would have to admit that I had happily surrendered. 

It suddenly seemed pointless to pretend at being coy. I wanted him with me as much as he wanted to be here and there was nothing I could think of that would have pleased me more than to allow him to 'carry me off' in just the way I knew he'd been imagining.  As infuriating as my lack of control had come to be around him, it was a symbiotic relationship at the very least.  Even if it wasn't entirely under either of our commands...

Will captured my wrist in his hand and his forehead came to rest against the front of mine.  We were quiet for a time, before he asked again, "are sure you're okay?"

I nodded.  "I think so.  I will be."

He looked me over quietly until his emotions had shifted from vivid concern to grudging acceptance and then he smiled, "okay."  

His warm blue eyes drew me all the way into his spirit and I was willing him to kiss me when he lifted one of my arms above my head, high against the wall.  With reverent care he pulled back each of my fingers and drew a tiny circle in the center of my palm.  Using only his fingertip, he traced a larger copy surrounding the first, but his gaze never left mine.

He knew I'd remember.

On the day he'd first called me 'Imzadi'--the day he first said the words: 'I love you' --he took my hand in his and held it just as he was now.   He'd said,  'Most of the memories I have of my mother are a little fuzzy; like vague shadows I can barely recall.  If you asked my father, he'd probably say that I don't remember her at all, but I do.  I remember that she sang to me.  And I remember that she'd take my hand in hers and draw two circles in the center of my palm.  This one, she'd say, is for you.  And this one is me.  And whenever I draw them together, you'll know how much I love you.  That you're the center of my universe...'  he dropped his head and smiled self-consciously, 'I've never told anyone that story before...'

I remembered the look in his eyes as well.

The room swam quietly out of focus and my vision refused to clear.  I knew that there were teardrops, but I had little time to wipe them away.  Will had already lowered his head to mine.  I felt his mouth caress my face; his warm breath on my cheek.  Tentatively at first.  His lips moved softly over mine.  But when I welcomed his touch and wrapped my arms around his neck, he kissed me harder and deeper than I could ever remember him kissing me before.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered gratefully against my hair.

I was dusty.  Tired.  I had bruises in places that I hadn't even realized I possessed.  But I was fine.  I was 'okay'.  Because I was back on board the Enterprise.  With my family and my friends.  I was safe.  I was happy.  And I was loved. 

I was in-love. 

Again. 

I was home.